


i was gonna die young (now i gotta wait for you)

by bratwonders



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Baby Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Cute Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson is Damian Wayne’s Parent, Dick Grayson is a good big brother, First Steps, Gen, Snow Day, hes trying his best ok, just damian being a cute baby, not on purpose, spiritually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 14:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22297270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bratwonders/pseuds/bratwonders
Summary: Dick watches Damian's first steps. Bruce misses out.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Comments: 19
Kudos: 718





	i was gonna die young (now i gotta wait for you)

**Author's Note:**

> Dick: 12-13  
> Tim: 6-7  
> Damian: 10 months

The snow in Gotham was rough and all-encompassing, as it was every winter. Every rooftop, tree branch and road was covered in white, the air carrying with it a deep chill that embedded itself into Gothamites’ bones. Many would sit in the comfort of their heated homes, sitting with their family in a warm blanket drinking hot cocoa. Others would stay outside and shovel the snow off the pavement and their cars. Others, the ones who didn’t have a home to retreat to, would move to shelters, vacant homes and heated buildings to escape the biting cold.

And while nature had been unkind to the city, it had been downright  _ evil _ to the inhabitants of Wayne Manor. The howling winds and hail pounding at their windows had them up earlier than most, the heater had been turned off, leaving them all shivering, and Dick could still remember the look on Alfred’s face when he opened the door only to be met with over five feet of snow in front of him.

There were upsides, though. For one, all schools were closed, meaning Dick and Tim were free from Gotham Academy for the day. Alfred has promised he would make some of his  _ world famous _ cookies and hot cocoa, which both boys couldn’t deny, they could never get enough of it. The roads were too icy to drive on as well, meaning Bruce couldn’t go to work. And though both his surrogate father and brother seemed irritated with the circumstances, Dick couldn’t be happier.

It wasn’t often the family -- because _ yes, _ despite what societal standards and the kids at school said, it  _ was _ a family,  _ Dick’s _ family -- spent their time together. In fact, it was almost a rarity. Tim hid away in his room more often than not, wishing not to be disturbed, and Bruce invested his time more in his work than home. Sometimes he was gone for  _ weeks _ at a time.

And he wasn’t stupid -- he knew why. Three years ago, when the summers were a little brighter and the winters were a little warmer, a little boy, as small as Tim was now, lived in the house with him. Little Jason, cute, innocent, bright little Jason, and thinking about just his  _ name _ was enough for Dick to get choked up.

Things weren’t the same after Jason Todd passed. Bruce had gotten worse,  _ so much worse _ , and if the man wasn’t already emotionally closed off, he was now. Dick -- Dick didn’t want to  _ think _ about how  _ terrible _ he was. He was snappy, angry, he yelled and he  _ screamed _ and when Bruce brought Tim home for the first time, he felt nothing but  _ hate, _ because  _ you can’t do that, Bruce, you can’t just replace him like this. _

It took him longer to warm up to Tim than he wanted to admit, and the shame followed him every day. Tim had done nothing,  _ nothing  _ wrong. Tim was a great kid, and Dick avoided him,  _ ignored him  _ because he wasn’t Jason. 

Things had gotten better since then, of course. Tim didn’t take it personally, the little  _ angel _ . Dick and Tim’s relationship grew and Dick learned to love his new little brother. He was a remarkably smart kid, not to mention patient and kind.

Bruce…

Well,  _ Bruce. _

Bruce stayed away from them. He barely attached himself to Tim, he didn’t spend much time with Dick anymore. He lost himself in his grief. Nothing could ever pull him out. Not even Damian. 

Sweet, small, innocent little Damian.

When Damian arrived ten months ago, given to the Wayne’s by Talia who was too afraid of her father corrupting him to keep him, Dick thought it was  _ finally  _ time for Bruce to start healing. He had a new child, a new  _ chance,  _ his own flesh and blood, so  _ tiny  _ and filled with nothing but innocence and  _ love. _ Dick was sure Bruce would turn back into the father Dick always knew him as for his new little boy.

And, well, Dick was  _ wrong. _

Damian wasn’t Bruce’s child on any level other than technical. Alfred fed, bathed and changed him, while Tim and Dick would play with him and keep him company. Bruce almost  _ never  _ even  _ looked  _ at his son. Dick thought, if he were to replace him with another baby entirely, Bruce wouldn’t have even noticed.

(Of course, that would never happen in Dick’s case. Dick had spent days of his life studying Damian’s light brown skin, his vibrant green eyes, his tiny nose that reddened at the very tip, his ears that were smaller than Dick’s finger but big for a baby his size, his puffy pink lips and his chubby cheeks.)

The longer it went on, the angrier Dick became. Damian was  _ Bruce’s  _ son, and Bruce should’ve acted like it. Dick knew what an amazing and kind parent Bruce could be, and Damian -- Damian would never experience any of it. Damian was just a  _ baby,  _ he didn’t deserve to be cast aside, even if Bruce  _ was  _ grieving, he had a  _ baby  _ to tend to.

So today -- today, Dick  _ knew  _ he had to squeeze in some true family bonding.

He hopped off his bed and stepped into his slippers, trotting down to the kitchen. It was still early, so he doubted anyone other than Alfred would be awake. Tim liked to stay in his room, and Bruce was probably sleeping in.

And just as Dick had expected, when he got downstairs, Alfred was awake and making a nice breakfast. Damian was in a baby chair on the table, sucking on a baby bottle as he kicked his little legs. Dick smiled and walked over to Damian, kissing his cheek before smiling at Alfred.

“Hey Alfie!” Dick chirped, sitting down on the chair next to Damian. “Happy snow day.”

Dick couldn’t see it, but he could  _ sense  _ Alfred’s smile, hear it in his voice. “The same to you, Master Dick. It’s quite early, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

Dick made the  _ pfffft  _ noise and waved his hand flippantly. “I’m wide awake! Plus I’m super hungry. Any special snow day breakfast?” He asked eagerly, crossing his arms with a smile.

Alfred let out a small hum. “Perhaps there are some  _ cinnamon buns  _ in your future.”

Dick’s smile only widened and he twisted in his seat to look at Alfred. “Yesss! You’re the best!” He looked over at Damian, who was staring at him with teeming curiosity. Dick smiled and leaned over, tickling under his chin. Damian started giggling and threw his arms up playfully.

Poor baby. He couldn’t get to taste Alfred’s  _ godlike  _ cooking, instead he was stuck with some processed baby food. Not that he  _ knew  _ what he was missing out on, but still.

His head shot up at the sound of footsteps -- light and quick, meaning they were definitely Tim’s. Dick smiled as his younger brother entered the kitchen in his Gotham Wildcats pajamas, his messy black hair reaching down to his shoulders. He sat across from Dick and smiled at him, a gap in his smile from when he’d lost a tooth.

“Morning, Dickie.” He hummed, reaching up and twirling his hair with his finger. It was a habit of his -- not a  _ nervous  _ habit, just a habit.

  
“Happy snow day. Alfred’s making cinnamon buns!”

“I said  _ maybe.”  _ Alfred quickly reminded, even though the room was already swirling with the smell of cinnamon.

“Maybe.” Dick corrected, shooting a wink at Tim to say,  _ definitely. _

Tim chuckled and kicked his legs. Dick found it cute -- his feet didn’t even reach the floor.

Just as Dick had suspected, Alfred put a plate of cinnamon buns in front of both boys. One for Tim, two for Dick. Tim took his without complaint -- he was a good kid, a  _ great _ kid, and he knew when not to whine. He nibbled on his treat with a small smile, licking at the cinnamon on his fingers.

Dick took off a small portion of his cinnamon bun and held it out for Damian. The baby looked at it with curiosity and took it from Dick, putting it in his mouth. Instantly, his face scrunched up and he stuck his tongue out, babbling discontentedly. 

“Master Dick,” Alfred said in admonishment, picking up Damian with one arm and pressing the boy into his torso, “that wasn’t nice.”

Dick laughed softly and took a large bite of his cinnamon bun. “Sorry, Dami.” He tried to say, but it was muffled by the food in his mouth. That earned another glare from Alfred. Dick knew he  _ hated  _ when people talk with food in their mouths.

Damian let out a little  _ hmph.  _ That was the thing about Damian -- he wasn’t a  _ crier.  _ Damian almost never cried. Sure, he could scream his lungs out all he wanted, but he never really shed any tears. Dick thought of it as a blessing and a curse -- he knew stories of babies that would keep the house awake for  _ days  _ because they just couldn’t stop crying, and he was glad Wayne manor wasn’t one of those houses. On the other hand, Dick never knew if Damian was hungry or uncomfortable or anything. It left him attached to the baby more often than not, worrying if there was something wrong that Dick didn’t know about. But Damian was always fine, he was always so  _ healthy.  _ Never even had a cold.

Dick smiled up at Damian. He was the cutest thing in the world.

“Alfie,” Dick piped up suddenly, putting his half-eaten cinnamon bun back on his plate, “can we play in the snow?”

Before the butler could speak up, Tim was scrunching up his face. “No, I don’ like the snow.”

“Not  _ you,”  _ Dick laughed, because he knew  _ very well _ how much Tim hated the snow and the cold, “me and Dami.”

Alfred let out a contemplative hum. “I don’t know. I would hate for either of you to catch a cold.”

Dick stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. “C’mon, Alfie! It’s Damian’s first snow day ever. Pleaseeeeee?” He gave Alfred those puppy dog eyes and fluttered his eyelashes sweetly. Alfred wasn’t usually one to be won over with cute faces, but hey, he could always try.

Alfred looked from the baby to Dick. He pursed his lips before letting out a defeated sigh. “Alright. Go get your snow pants and your jacket.”

Dick’s face lit up and he was out of his seat in seconds, running upstairs and diving into his closet. He took out his puffy winter jacket and snow pants, throwing them both on quickly. His jacket was Batman-themed, and his pants were a bright yellow. He found the whole thing unnecessary, but Alfred insisted on it for Dick’s safety. He took a quick peak in the mirror, and, yeah, he looked  _ really  _ stupid. Still, at least he was allowed to go out at all.

He ran back downstairs to the kitchen and looked around a little. Tim was still munching on his cinnamon bun while Alfred was dressing Damian in tiny winter clothes.

“Can we go now?” He asked impatiently, bouncing on his heels. He peaked over Alfred’s shoulder to look at Damian, who was almost completely covered in tiny winter clothes.

Alfred chuckled fondly and pulled away, picking Damian up in his arms. “Yes, yes, you can go. Just make sure you wear your snow boots.”

Dick carefully took Damian into his arms, keeping a firm grip on him as he ran to the front door and put on his snow boots. Damian looked bothered by all the layers, face crumpled up in a grumpy pout.

Opening the door sent a chilly breeze to both of them, making Dick wince. The air was frigid, and even his winter coat wasn’t enough to protect him from the chill. Alfred has cleared the pathways of snow, but the snow still stood tall, up to Dick’s knees. He took a step in the snow, and immediately sank into it, crumbling under his feet.

He huffed, his breath visible in the air. He carried Damian out to the middle of the frozen tundra that was their front yard and set him down in the snow.

“We’re gonna make an igloo.” He told Damian confidently. “Can you say igloo?”

Damian looked up at him like he was crazy, chewing on his mitten. 

Dick chuckled and shook his head.  _ “Igloo,  _ Damian. Igloo.”

Damian took his hand away from his mouth. “Iggoo?”

A small laugh made its way out of Dick’s throat and he nodded. “Close enough.”

He turned away to start collecting clumps of snow, picking them up with his hands and setting them down in a big pile. After a few minutes of gathering snow, he was able to make a pile about as big as Damian.

This was gonna take a while.

Dick had just started to grab some more snow when Damian started wobbling. Dick raised an eyebrow in confusion and looked over at him. The boy was struggling to balance himself on the snow, stretching upwards until he was on his feet. He wobbled on his feet, not quite able to get his balance. He stretched his arms out, but that did nothing to break his fall as his butt fell back into the snow.

Dick covered his mouth with his mitten and laughed. To Damian’s credit, he didn’t look deterred. His cheeks puffed with resolution and he stood up again, throwing his arms up into the air with a small cry of victory.

Dick smiled widely. Damian was actually  _ standing!  _ Dick didn’t want to get his hopes up, but -- maybe, maybe he would take his first steps?

The thought sent an excited chill through Dick’s spine. He quickly abandoned his snow castle and sat a few feet in front of Damian, holding his arms out.

“C’mon, Dami,” Dick cooed, smiling widely, “you can do it. Come to your brother.”

Damian couldn’t have possibly known what Dick was saying, but it seemed to fuel his determination anyway as he lifted his tiny foot and put it in front of him. Dick’s smile only grew and he clapped his hands. “That’s it! Go!”

Damian clapped his hands along and squealed happily, losing focus on his goal. Dick laughed and pointed to the ground in front of him. Damian’s eyes traveled down and he grinned, starting to toddle over to Dick. After three steps, he lost his balance and face-planted into the snow with a small yelp. Dick bursted into laughter, clutching his stomach as he threw his head back.

Bruce was gonna  _ hate _ missing this.

Dick reached his hand out and helped Damian stabilize himself. Damian looked up at him with glowing, vibrant green eyes, face red and covered in snow. Dick wiped the snow off with his mittens and shuffled back.

“Try again.” He whispered.

Damian looked at him for a moment before attempting to get back on his feet. He scrambled up straight, and then there he went, taking uneven steps again. His eyes were concentrated on the snow below him, one step after another.

Dick’s heart swelled with pride. His baby --  _ his baby _ \-- was walking! All by himself!

Damian  _ was  _ his baby. He sure as hell wasn’t  _ Bruce’s.  _ Not in anything other than blood. Bruce didn’t take care of Damian the way he  _ deserved,  _ the way he needed. Dick was going to make sure Damian got all the love he could ever have.

Bruce wasn’t even here for his  _ first steps. _

Damian started picking up speed as he walked through the snow, right into Dick’s lap. He squeaked with joy and smiled widely up at his older brother, his eyes screaming,  _ I did it! I did it! _

Dick pulled the boy in close, peppering kisses all over his face, warming it up from when it had been in the snow. Damian kicked his legs excitedly and squeezed Dick’s fingers, giggling wildly.

Dick kissed his nose and ran his fingers through his tuft of hair. Damian couldn’t understand why Dick was just so  _ damn happy, _ but apparently, he didn’t need to. He looked just as bright.

Damian snuggled in close to Dick’s chest, liking the warmth it emitted. Dick held him close, kissing the top of his head, and  _ god, _ he just loved this kid so much.

He scooped the baby into his arms and started running to the front door.

_ “Alfie! Alfie! You’ll never guess what just happened!” _

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @bratwonders


End file.
